


MMP

by Skamprince



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Blood, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 21:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21464722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skamprince/pseuds/Skamprince
Summary: AU: Sander is a lost astronaut, at night he performs in concerts with his band, living a constant fight against his impulsive violence that constantly leads him to kill people. However, his tendencies will be shoved when he meets Robbe at one of his concert.Sander (1st person) POV
Relationships: Robbander, Sobbe
Kudos: 20





	MMP

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, please don't mind my potential language mistakes (I'm trying my best). Hope you'll enjoy!

Chapter 1:

“The rope is the last thing keeping me from a 20 meters fall, yet the excitement of being on the verge, balancing back and forth in the void; it keeps me from ending my great picture. Some things I needed to be done with before disappearing. Seeing the world upside down wasn’t really a bad thing too, the window frame in front of me appeared way older and degraded this way. The metal was used, and the tent of glasses reproduced my white hair in a strange reflection, however the blood running from my nose, making its way down between my eyes and disappearing after my forehead was clearly shootable thanks to the streetlights down below. However, I needed to get out of here before someone’d seen me. I balanced some more using my body and quickly managed to grip the edge of the wall. In a now better position, I could get a better view of the city. So much lights that even with a strong fog we could guess the high buildings. Their top being hidden by actual clouds. The fog continued down the docs where the massive industrial fireplaces spat out dark smoke day and night. I got rid of some concrete-dust left on my leather jacket and broke in the building crashing a glass or two to enter the first apartment. This building was on rental, so I didn’t need to keep it quiet, _he wouldn’t have either way_.

I walked up the 3 floors I had accidentally fallen from and got my backpack, taking a quick sight at the broken window and the rope still attached to the chandelier. A nighty scene full of broken glasses drown in blood pools. I decided to clean up a bit not that I was scared to have left some marks here and there, but mostly because the symphony didn’t feel right and I couldn’t just leave a mess. I took the rope back, dragging it up for almost a minute before coming to its end. I then tied the rope around his neck and took the glasses off his face. Then I sent his body by the same window and let the rope do the rest.

It was 22 in the evening and I was late for my concert. Down the building I gave a quick look to my phone, discovering a message from Britt asking me when I would arrive. I didn’t waste any time, putting my headphones on and pressing shuffle play before riding my bike to head downtown, leaving behind me the hanging body that still bled from meters height.

Now Playing: Changes – David Bowie

I sang along the lyrics as the streetlights passed one by one, each second a bit closer and a bit less late.

_Still don't know what I was waitin' for _

_And my time was runnin' wild _

_A million dead end streets and _

_Every time I thought I'd got it made _

_It seemed the taste was not so sweet _

_So I turned myself to face me _

_But I've never caught a glimpse _

_How the others must see the faker _

_I'm much too fast to take that test _

I always smiled a lot at David Bowie’s songs, like a renaissance, something that boosted me whatever the circumstances, _well, before you_.

Getting closer to the animated center, my ride became more like a joyful dance, alternating between sidewalk and road to make it look like a parkour, plus it was funny slaloming between the people as it got more crowded.

Finally arriving in front of the bar I would be playing in tonight, Britt greeted me coming for a peck and quickly telling me that she brought friends that night. I went backstage, making my hair look wilder and putting on a bit of mascara. I looked at me in the mirror and made a strange encouragement noise. Opened my dark leather jacket to let other people see the Red Bowie t-shirt I had under. Grabbed my electric guitar and passed the curtains to get on stage, trying as hard as possible to get Changes out of my mind as I was supposed to open with _Rebel Rebel_ (band agreement).

Arriving on stage I had a little look from Jens the new drummer. He was obviously mad I was late to his first concert.

The lights turned off, announcing the beginning of our gig. People lowered their voices and it suddenly became very intimate.

The bartender gave me the sign, saying the lights were ready.

So, I played the first notes. Following the rhythm with my head, not daring yet to look at the crowd. The lights went crazier when Jens started with the drums, then followed by Albert that was singing tonight.

Now Playing: Rebel Rebel – David Bowie

Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo

You've got your mother in a whirl

She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl

Hey babe, your hair's alright

Hey babe, let's go out tonight

You like me, and I like it all

We like dancing and we look divine

You love bands when they're playing hard

You want more and you want it fast

They put you down, they say I'm wrong

You tacky thing, you put them on

I left my gaze from the guitar when I heard a joyful shout from the dancefloor, discovering that many were dancing either by slight head movements or giving it all in. Britt was first row, giving big smiles in my direction and singing along my lip-singing. The lights still were my favorite thing, some purple or green rotating flashes scanning the room.

We ended the music to the spectator’s claps, feeling all boosted again, and ready to start with the second song of the night: _Space Oddity_.

For this song I sat on a highchair, still facing the public. The first notes always made me want to travel, or kill, but it wasn’t the point now, I needed to remain focused and perform. Singing with Albert at some point of the song, those were the moment I would start scanning the crowd. Lights being only directed to the scene, it usually felt intimidating to watch them when they could see you as well. Plus, singing Space Oddity always felt like a confession to the public, giving a glimpse of the lost astronaut I was.

However, examining the room was one of my smartest choices in a long time, discovering _you, your_ messy curled hair which slightly hidden those sparkling eyes, looking back at me. It took _you_ a second to break the eye contact, but _you_ did, leaving me alone on this stage. Till _you_ looked back, smiling a little letting me discover the original shape of _your_ sharp cheeks, I think _you_ reddened. But after the only thing I could see was _you_.”

After the concert I went back home with Britt as we normally did, her crashing on my bed like she hadn’t slept in years while I headed to the kitchen to go on the balcony. On the path grabbed one of my pre-rolled joints and fired it staring at the moon. It was so quiet, city’s roof expending with no end in the horizon. Streets light let me see the few clouds overring the lands, but the brightest light still came from the moon, leaving this white and pale hallow reflect on windows and polished bricks. I sat down, putting my back against the wall, taking a big drag in, keeping it for a second. During this second I thought of my day, how a single argument at the grocery store became a murder or unofficially a suicide. I looked at one of my nails that still had blood under it, it was kind of funny to think that no one but me could actually guess it was blood, like everyone was usually scared of it, or was used to see the fake ones in tv shows, but this one was real, as real as the voices in my head. These voices had joined my life a while ago now, and I became familiar with them even though I had my preferences. One of the voices belonged to my mother, she was the nicest one, not the one that would trigger murders or dark thoughts, it was the one that would comfort, I would say the weak one. But I used to get mad at this voice as well, always treating me like a child, or simply because she seemed out of reach when I needed her the most. I took another drag in, directly blowing it out, the effects were starting to be acknowledged and my spinning head decided to reach for the Airpods in my pockets, connecting them to my phone, pressing shuffle play on the “high” playlist.

Now Playing: Say To Me – 5&Dime Remix

I let my head move to the flow of the song, following each note with a nod. Sounds becoming particles in my head that gathered then parted, forming big and colorful flashes as they moved. I used to think that life was better with no vision, the beauty of sounds and how they formed symphonies being the only thing worth the game. The more combination, the more I got inspired. Like a euphoria of ideas popping in my head for each note. Music was relaxing, it made the silence vanish, completed the void. I finished the joint and threw what was left of it, entering back in the warm flat. Britt had turned off the light, it seemed like we were a domestic couple, but we really weren’t, she was more like a hobby that got more involved in my life that I had expected, but we weren’t really sharing anything. Getting attached to people wasn’t really my think, I had tried to erase emotions from my mind, but they kept knocking back, storming out and in with no warnings. In the dark flat I decided to reach my office, the view from there was nice, and the percussions of the song had inspired me. I quickly grabbed a thin feather and a bottle of my special ink, sitting at the desk to start creating. My drawings used to scare people, that’s why I stopped showing them off. Drawing in the dark wasn’t a bad thing in my opinion, the less I saw what I drew the better it usually turned out. Ideas were fusing in my head, but one image kept coming back; it was the sight of the brown-haired guy I had put my eyes on during the concert. His face captivated me, maybe he looked a bit like Bowie. He had crazy curled hair that were following unpredictable shapes, these framing down to a sharp jawline that ended in smooth chin. The smile overring the whole made freckles appear on both side of his cheeks, centering to a narrow nose that opened to two amazing eyes. These eyes were comforting, but they seemed to cry for help, like this guy needed to be saved as much as I had needed it. This smiling face ironically screamed insecurities and wonders, like he was still trying to find his route in this world; _as if we even had one to follow_… His mouth separated in two thin lips, they seemed so comfortable, like two pillows crashing against each other, they also screamed to be kissed. Now that the picture was a bit clearer in my head, I drowned the feather in the darkish ink, following my thoughts on where I should draw the first lines. Detailing wasn’t really easy with ink, but with different kind of touches and an adequate feather, miracles were reachable.

The next song coming in was a French song: Insomnies from Angèle, and I really got insomnia trying to perfectly portrait the stranger’s face. The white night offering me her dark thoughts, the eyes were done, the ink making its magic trick of deepening the stare. _I see shadows as bodies_, the crazy hair was done, wicks waving in each direction my imagination could think of._ Few tears away from you_, the freckles were perfectly accurate, framing the smile I had made right beforehand. It’s like the drawing came to life, he seemed happy, but I wasn’t sure he was at the concert, despite the smile on his face. So, I pressed the feather on the left eye leaving an extra amount of ink, a bit of liquidity in this eye. I then took the drawing very carefully and hanged it with a paper clip so the extra ink fell down slowly like a silent tear making its path on the cheek of the brunette. Taking a few steps back I watched the picture, the whole atmosphere becoming a full story. I turned on the side light, the ink suddenly becoming a bit more reddish.

It was 3 hours 33 in the morning when I finished the drawing, my only wish spinning around and around in my head. This wish was to give this boy a real smile, not a fake one he could fool anyone with, a real one, one he would mean and appreciate. I took it as a challenge, but I didn’t know if I would ever cross his path again. At least now, with his face hanged in my office it was impossible to forget this face.

I spent the rest of the night sitting crossed legged on the floor, staring at the portrait while listening to music. Strangely, and for the whole night, my murderous impulsive wants hadn’t come in, I was too busy imagining what this boy liked, what he was doing of his life, what even was his name.

Another night, the concert room we were playing in was larger than usual, and I could hear people chatting from backstage. I quickly prepared myself, staring back at me in the mirror as I put on some mascara to underline my stare, Britt used to tell me I looked good like this, what I answered by _I always look good_. I loved the atmosphere backstage, we usually adopted two different moods, either we would scream together with the band to get some motivation and gather our energy, or we would just keep it silent, everyone getting ready on its own, today was a silent one. While I quickly styled my hair, I thought of the stranger, picturing him in my head to be 100% sure to recognize him if he happened to be in the crowd which I didn’t really believe in. However, the first thing I did this night was scan the crowd. I didn’t make myself shy as I normally did, directly looking for the brunette’s crazy hair. I almost lost motivation to sing when I didn’t find him, like I had been expecting him to be here more than I had let myself know. Big hopes where crashing down as I started first notes of Hereos – David Bowie. Tonight, I was the one singing, but I suddenly didn’t feel like it, feeling all alone once more. Feeling alone when hundreds of stares were fixed on me was a huge paradox I had become familiar with. In a quick movement of the hand I made Albert understand that he would sing this song, so he started the lyrics following my notes. The lights and coloring changed as they usually did, turning red, purple, green and sometimes a bright yellow would make a flash over the room, expending our vision to the back of the crowd.

When we arrived at a more instrumental part of the song, I focused on the electric guitar giving it all in, the least I could do tonight was keep it focused for my friends on stage. So I focused, I tried so hard to erase his face from my mind, just the sight of him made me feel low, the void in the room felt so big.

_We can be heroes_

I sang with the others for this line, making me look at the crowd once more, and then repeating it as a chore. People were singing with me, and I found myself almost enjoying this night, still wondering if among all these faces the one was there. I prayed in my head that he suddenly appeared, I had been thinking of him over a whole week, my desk being covered in drawings that were getting worse and worse as the memories faded.

_Just for one day _

At this moment, I had only one wish in the universe, seeing him, but here I was: all alone.

His missing affected me way more than I expected, at the end of the concert, I didn’t even stay to talk with my band and went straight to the nearest bar, deciding that alcohol would be my only friend tonight. Taunting the bartender to get more and always more shots, I tried hard to erase my emotions, but it felt like each time my throat burned from the tequila his sight burned my retina. I was trying to understand how a simple guy from a concert room made me feel this way, I needed to talk to him to be able to reach him, I needed to investigate where this feeling came from. I suddenly became so angry that I didn’t go to talk to him the first night that I ran out of the bar leaving; followed by the bartender screaming at me to pay my note.

It’s when I finally escaped his sight that I stopped running and went back to walking. The streets were silent, and the silence started to bother me. It bothered me because it made it harder not to listen to the voices in my head sending me mixed signals.

_KILL KILL KILL KILL – _

_You need to Kill, you will see it will calm your nerves. _

_Go back to sleep Sander_

_ You are a lost cause look how fucked up you get over a stranger _

_Blood _

_Hit _

_Pain _

_Suffer, MORE ! _

_It’s either them or you _

They popped in and out with no warning each time screaming some more non-sense. Triggering more and more the violence that was raging inside me. Till I completely lost it and went for the first person I found on my path. Using an iron barre to knock him down I then pulled him up to some security stares, I always liked to take some height for kills, they made me feel free like a bird. The emotion that no one could stop me, not even the voices in my head. And even though they were the one triggering the violence, the moment I took a life was when the silence would become bearable.

Once on the roof, I turned to the guy still unconscious and apologized, as I always did, I still felt sorry for them, but it felt like part of my condition, killing was something I couldn’t stay stable without, and when I tried resigning this part of me, things only got darker, making them suffer for hours in horrible conditions instead of killing them quickly. I took the little knife in my back-pocket, slowly entering under his skin with the blade. The blood started running out crazily, soon forming a pool of blood that surrounded the stranger’s body. It was rare that I killed complete strangers, usually they would be people that had pissed me off or that represented threat to one of my secrets, like this police officer from last month… I poured my hands in the blood and took out a sampling bottle to collect some of it. Painted my face with what was starting to dry on my hands, forming the same tear rolling down from my left eye that the one on my drawing. Once the blood stopped running wild and only flew at a low rhythm, I felt satisfied but strangely it wasn’t like the usual times, there wasn’t this sense of freedom, the over strength chasing fears away, it felt like it was just a murder, not a cure. For the first time in a while it felt wrong. So, the voices in my head started again asking me to throw him from the roof. Incapable to act all by myself I followed the orders. Throwing him over the edge till I heard the body crash on the floor couples of meters down. The big noise was followed but a surprised scream, I stared over the edge to see what was happening, and right in front of the smashed body was a guy wearing an headset, he froze for a whole minute before looking in my direction, and here he was, _The one_, but instead of a smile on his face his expression was all fear and distress.

End of chapter 1 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, if you did please leave a comment or Kudos (always great motivation to keep writing). If you didn't please explain me why, I will try to work on some aspects of the story along the chapters. 
> 
> Love you all, and long life to Robbander/Sobbe


End file.
